


Heaven's Revenge

by EvanThatGUY920



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale/Crowley if you squint - Freeform, Forced Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, aziraphale goes crazy, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanThatGUY920/pseuds/EvanThatGUY920
Summary: Rain fell hard onto the pavement in front of his eyes and all around him. Aziraphale wondered hazily to himself how he'd let this happen to him. He was a fool to trust that he would be safe after he and Crowley managed to fool Heaven and Hell after their body swap. Though the angels were unsure if Hellfire would work against Aziraphale, they knew that they could use earthly things to bring the angel pain and, for a small group of angry and vengeful angels, that would be enough; to see 'The Traitor' suffer.Or: Aziraphale gets hurt and then he gets mad.





	Heaven's Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic might be just a tiny bit overkill. It's based around a dream I had, though the dream had nothing to do with Good Omens.

Gabriel led a sparse group of angels down to Earth with the intent to harm Aziraphale at the very least emotionally. The Almighty surely didn't know of any of this conspiring against Aziraphale, though he was pretty sure that She had wished for his permanent discorperation. The group, led by Gabriel, went against Her wishes to leave the angel be for now. They wanted 'justice' for Aziraphale's 'wrongdoings'. They had decided that the angel's punishment would be a physical beating, as that was what would make them feel somewhat better. Though, Gabriel had the bright idea to send an angel to retrieve a human drug to incapacitate Aziraphale for the beating; he wouldn't be able to fend off his attackers.

Aziraphale went to the alley behind his bookstore to dispose of some trash into a dumpster. As he dusted his hands clean, the angels descended upon him, the first catching him from behind and stabbing a syringe into his neck. Aziraphale pushed the angel off of him, the syringe going with them, and he held the spot where the needle entered, blood leaking between his fingers and down his neck. The angel hissed in pain before suddenly becoming lightheaded and faint, soon collapsing to his knees.

Gabriel stepped forward through the group of angry angels and looked down at Aziraphale with disgust and rage, the angel catching sight of the archangel just before his vision began to blur and darken. His head spun as he heard Gabriel among the other angels' voices speak, "You're a traitor to your own kind. How could you leave Her love and grace behind? You're disgusting, a disgrace to Her creations. A traitor!" Dully, as though Aziraphale was outside of his own body, his hair was grabbed and he was thrown to the ground face first.

The angels proceeded to kick and beat the angel, shouting the closest thing to profanities toward him. Aziraphale felt an immense amount of pain and numbness all at once as he witnessed it all happen through clouded eyes. He hadn't taken notice of when but sometime during his beating, it had begun to sprinkle which soon turned to heavy rain. Once they decided they were done, they gathered at the end of the alleyway, one angel using a miracle to conjure an invisible umbrella over them to shield them from the rain.

Gabriel was the last of them to finish his 'punishment', finally lifting Aziraphale from the ground backward by his hair and whispering with spite laced into his words, "The condemned deserve to be punished, Aziraphale. You are NO exception, no matter whatever it is that you've become." The archangel then released Aziraphale's hair and let his temple slam into the cement. The angels then departed without another word, gone in an instant.

As Aziraphale laid on the wet concrete, he began to worry about the fate of Crowley and if his lot had a group also set out for revenge from him. The angel felt the sharp static of tears gathered at the rims of his eyes, noting that it felt much more intense than it normally had. "C-Crowley…" Aziraphale found himself faintly whimpering, calling out in vain for his friend's safety. The angel wished that Crowley were with him at that moment, to know that the demon was unharmed. "Crowley, d-dear…" Aziraphale tried again, hoping somehow that Crowley would show up. As he laid there longer on the soaked cement, Aziraphale began to realize that maybe he wanted his friend with him because it was Aziraphale who was hurting.

Hot tears began to spill over as Aziraphale's heartfelt heavy in his chest, as though it held him like a cinder block to the ground. "Cr-Crowley, please, help m-me…" he sobbed out, his lungs feeling squeezed and bruised, "Please, Crowley…" Aziraphale attempted to move his arm to no avail, his attempts at moving anything but his mouth failed him. And even then, his throat hurt so badly, it pained him just to speak.

Then, a piercing sound cut through the patter of the heavy rain, Aziraphale believed it was his cell phone that Crowley had gotten him ringing. The angel wished ever so badly that he could move to answer it, to tell the person on the other end to get help, to get someone, to get Crowley. But he couldn't; Aziraphale was helpless and at the mercy of the rain. "C-Crowley…" Aziraphale rasped out once more, feeling as though he would be trapped in the alleyway for the rest of eternity as his punishment against God. Tears continued to pour over his cheeks, a choked sob emerging from the depths of his throat. Just as suddenly as the ringing, Aziraphale caught sight of a strangely familiar pair of shoes that soon lead him to investigate the character who wore them further.

He then realized, seeing fiery red hair, that the person standing at the end of the alley on the phone was Crowley himself. The demon must've been calling him. Aziraphale felt the strangest sense of relief wash over him, as he was still very much in pain but happy to see his friend. He tried once more, as loudly as he could be, hoping the rain wouldn't drown him out, "Crowley…!" It came out as a cry, a sob, a scream quite nearly. As the black-clad one quickly looked down into the alley, he hung up his phone and cautiously took a few steps into the alleyway. Then, his eyes adjusted and he realized just what was lying on the ground, his friend.

"A-Aziraphale?! What the blazes happened to you?!" The demon shouted with worry, rushing to Aziraphale's side and lifting him from the concrete. "Oh angel, what have those bastards done to you?" Crowley spoke with concern and a trace of rage on his tongue; he'd kill the angels who were responsible, he'd fight God Herself if he had to. Crowley looked into Aziraphale's eyes but his eyes were clouded and distant, almost as if he was-- "Oh fuck, angel… They- they drugged you, didn't they?" The demon didn't wait for an answer as he knew he wouldn't get one; he picked Aziraphale up as gently as he could and carried him inside the bookshop, placing him in a comfortable chair Crowley had miracled up on the spot.

He then miracled some first aid equipment along with a cloth and water and began to clean and mend Aziraphale's wounds, though they both knew that the wounds couldn't be fatal, they knew that it hurt like hell to have them open and exposed. Aziraphale's head was tilted to the side and he stared off into empty space, his eyes half-lidded and dazed. As Crowley cared for the angel's wounds, he looked up at Aziraphale and frowned, though it was only faint, and carried on with his ministrations.

After what felt like a millennium, Crowley finished, hoping what he had done was good enough. He made the materials he'd summoned disappear and then conjured a glass of water and some pills. Crowley popped the pills into his own mouth and drank some water only to lean down to Aziraphale and open his mouth, pressing his own mouth to the angel's and forcing the pills down his throat. A bit of water mixed with saliva trickled down the corner of Aziraphale's mouth but the pills had made it down. Crowley pulled back, putting a hand on Aziraphale's cheek and using his thumb to wipe away the water. The demon whispered gently, "Angel, I need you to say something for me, alright? Say something, any little thing."

Aziraphale's head swayed a bit but Crowley kept it in place the best he could, then the angel whimpered quietly, "I-I'm so sorry." Crowley bit back tears, trying to remain tough even as Aziraphale was so weak, and said stern yet softly, "No no, angel. It's not your fault; don't say sorry." Aziraphale shook his head gently and said, "They're r-right. I shouldn't h-have forsaken Her. I-I'm a disgrace, Crowley." Crowley pressed his forehead against Aziraphale's to stabilize him and quivered as he spoke, "No, angel, it's not your fault. Do you hear me, Aziraphale? It's not your fucking fault, damn it. They're wrong, She's wrong. Just listen to me, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale nodded, tears coming to his eyes and spilling over, and then said, "Okay, dear, I-I believe you. I just… I'm happy y-you're alright." Crowley chuckled and said, "Even after all this, you can still worry about someone besides yourself. You're cruel, angel, just cruel." Aziraphale began to feel a bit better and much more present after a few hours. Crowley found himself drinking from a bottle of whiskey, pacing in front of the angel and waiting for the poor man to sober up.

A few more hours passed and Aziraphale groaned, waking up from a nap he hadn't realized he'd taken until he woke. His whole body pained him and everything was sore and stung. He looked down at himself and seen that most of his clothes, save for his underpants, were missing and replaced by bandages that littered his body. Aziraphale's head panged and he held the side of it, feeling a bandage on his temple. "O-oh dear," Aziraphale spoke hoarsely, now realizing that his throat was excessively parched and strained.

Crowley emerged from behind a bookshelf and spoke, "Angel? You alright?" Aziraphale could see that the man's eyes were pink and moist. "Worrying all by himself," Aziraphale thought. The angel spoke much more softly, "I feel quite alright, though my throat doesn't feel up for it just yet." Crowley nodded, grabbing his glasses off the counter of the bookstore next to an empty bottle of whiskey and sliding them over his eyes. He then miracled up some warm tea with a spot of honey mixed in, walking over and then handing it to Aziraphale, saying, "Shouldn't be too hot, for your throat."

Aziraphale shakily reached out for the drink but stopped short once he realized that he'd just spill it with the way his hand wouldn't hold still. "I--," Aziraphale's voice cracked but he continued, "I don't think I'll be able to hold it steady, dear." Crowley, being the demon he was, scoffed as if it was too much trouble before saying, "If you insist, then I guess I'll help you out." Crowley knelt down and held the rim of the cup to the angel's lips, just slightly tilting it to allow some tea to touch Aziraphale's lips. Aziraphale let his eyes slip shut as he slowly drank in the tea, letting his hand rest on Crowley's hand that held the tea; the demon could feel it quiver against him.

Once the cup was empty, Crowley made it disappear and asked, "Do you need another, angel?" Aziraphale shook his head with a small smile on his face and spoke softly, voice much less raspy, "I think I'll be fine for now, dear. Thank you." Crowley shook his head and said, "It's no big thing, really." Aziraphale nodded and the room began to fill with a looming silence. Aziraphale then asked, pointing toward the empty bottle on his counter, "Is that… whiskey?" Crowley shook his head, looking away from Aziraphale as he spoke, running his hand over his mouth over and over again, "Oh, that? I was just having a bit of fun while you took your nap is all. Got quite bored while I was waiting for you to wake up." Aziraphale nodded, not believing a word of it but trusting that, if Crowley wanted to talk about it, he would, so Aziraphale let the subject go.

Aziraphale stood and stretched his arms out, wincing a bit before saying, "My goodness, I feel positively wretched. You… you patched me up, right, Crowley?" The demon took a deep breath before sighing and saying, "Yes, angel. I got you all bandaged up." Aziraphale chuckled and said, "Well, thank you for that as well." Crowley shook his head and said, "Best not to thank me. It wasn't that much." Aziraphale replied, "Alright, but I'm still very grateful." Crowley nodded, saying, "Yeah yeah, I got it, angel." Aziraphale sighed and another silence grew over them.

Then, Crowley asked, "Do… do you remember what happened?" Aziraphale chuckled as if this was all a big joke or something he just couldn't take seriously and said, "I can't recall at the moment, dear. But… I do remember… Gabriel, he was definitely there among their group. I… can't seem to place much else." Crowley shrugged and spoke, "Eh, it's fine. It's not like it matters much anyway, just that… that you're fine." Aziraphale nodded, though something at the back of his mind told him that he didn't need to remember, that it would be alright if he never remembered that event ever again.

Crowley went quiet again before asking, "So, do you think you can… heal yourself now?" Aziraphale shook his head gently and said, "I couldn't exert myself like that in this state, dear. I need a little more rest before I could do something like that." Crowley nodded, hand on the back of his neck, and said, "Right, yeah, sorry. I'm not trying to push you or anything. I just want you to get better is all." Aziraphale nodded and Crowley had seen the closest thing to a smile grace the angel's lips since the start of this horrid day. Aziraphale spoke softly, "Of course you do; thank you for your concern, Crowley. I'll rest up and heal in no time at all, but you don't have to stay here. That is if you don't want to."

"I'm capable of looking after myself, you know." Crowley gave him a look and Aziraphale knew exactly what it meant: 'then how the hell did this happen?' The angel huffed, feeling a bit ashamed and defeated as he spoke, turning away from Crowley's hidden eyes, "Well, I hadn't anticipated foul play from angels of all the lot. But then again, I shouldn't have expected any less from Gabriel." Suddenly, Aziraphale felt a warm hand gently place itself on his forearm and he turned to see the demon, having removed his sunglasses once again to expose an expression of pity and sorrow. Aziraphale nearly felt himself break at the sight of Crowley's eyes on the verge of tears over him.

"Aziraphale," Crowley spoke his name as though he were holding back a tidal wave of anguish, "I swear Gabriel and his little lot are gonna pay. I won't let them get away with this; they deserve- they--" Crowley couldn't finish, as tears began to pour down his face and his sobs soon drowned out his words. Aziraphale pulled the demon close, though this brought pain to his chest and arms, he refused to let go. This, knowing that his friend was mourning his pain, was enough to comfort him at that moment. Though Aziraphale embraced Crowley, the demon refused to hold the angel, instead holding his own face and wiping his tears as they fell. Aziraphale was uncertain of what to say, so he said nothing at all.

They stayed that way until Crowley had calmed his crying and eventually returned Aziraphale's embrace, though much more gently and carefully. "Crowley?" Aziraphale finally spoke after some time of silence. "Yes, angel?" Came Crowley's raspy reply. The angel paused, uncertain of how he wanted to ask his question; it was something quite dreadful and he feared Crowley would get mad at him for asking, so he had to word it carefully. Eventually, after thinking of all sorts of different sentences with none being satisfactory, Aziraphale decided to just throw out the most simple and blunt way to ask what he wanted, "Can… Can we not speak of this… ever again?"

Crowley instantly shot to look Aziraphale in the eyes and found that the angel's face hid bottled up emotions of misery and pain that were just barely visible behind his eyes; luckily, Crowley knew him well enough to know what he was hiding behind his bright blue eyes. Unfortunately, Aziraphale was basically telling him that he could not comfort the angel about this problem or it's pain as Aziraphale didn't want it to be brought up again. But, if that made Aziraphale feel any bit better, it's what Crowley would do. The demon sighed and then ran a hand through Aziraphale's blond hair, saying with sorrowful eyes, "If that's what you want, angel. But know that I'll always be here."

The angel put his forehead against Crowley's shoulder and nodded, giving a muffled, "Thank you," before returning to silence. Crowley continued to play with Aziraphale's soft, curly hair while also rubbing a circle on his upper back with his other hand.

"Crowley, dear," Aziraphale suddenly spoke after a while, lifting his head from Crowley's shoulder. "Yes, angel?" Crowley somewhat hummed in reply, continuing to twirl his finger in the angel's hair. Aziraphale chuckled pitifully and said, "I do hope it's not too much to ask, but I think I would rather be alone right now. If you don't mind." The demon ceased his movements, bringing his hands back to himself and pulling away from Aziraphale. He looked the angel in the eyes, wearing an expression of worry, and asked, "Are you sure? What if they--" "I'll put up a barrier," came Aziraphale's quick response. Crowley, not wanting Aziraphale to feel that the demon was doubting him, spoke, "Oh, yes. Yeah, the barriers. Forgot about those. When was the last time you used one, back in the 1940s?"

The angel smiled a bit, feeling rather fond of the memory, then saying, "Only because you had dropped that bomb on the church." Crowley released a hearty chuckle and said, "Well, I had to. Those bloody nazis were going to discorporate you, angel." Aziraphale looked away from Crowley and rubbed his arm, messing with one of the bandages on it, and then said bashfully, "I am glad you had shown up. There would've been so much paperwork to do if I had been discorporated. I… I never got to thank you back then, for that and the books as well."

The demon shrugged, feeling slightly awkward as a blush crept up his face while he watched the angel fiddle with his bandages. Crowley then spoke after an uncomfortable pause, a bit rushed and without thought, "Shouldn't thank me, it's what I do, really." Aziraphale chuckled and asked, "And what would that be, my dear?" Crowley's blush darkened and he asked, confused over what he had said, "What?" Aziraphale smiled warmly and asked, "What is it that you do?" Crowley, eyes going wide but were safely hidden from the angel, stuttered a bit, "Oh, I, uh, well…" "Save you," is what the demon thought, but by Satan, he'd never say that.

Instead, he pulled himself further away from Aziraphale and spat out, "Well, you're right, angel. I-I should go. Got some things I need to do and all that." Crowley went to the door, gripping the doorknob and staring at it for a moment. He then turned back to see Aziraphale with a contemplating expression; he almost felt bad for leaving but then again, the angel himself had asked him to leave. Crowley sighed and said, earnestly, "You know, I'm serious about what I said; I'm here if you need me, angel."

Aziraphale smiled with a sigh and said, "Of course, dear. I'll let you know if, um… if I need you." Crowley felt heat rush to his face once again and he quickly turned around, nodded, and then said, "Yeah, right, yes. Well, I-I'll see you around, angel." "Good day, Crowley," the angel quickly replied. "As if that's possible," Aziraphale heard the demon grumble under his breath as he went out the door. He stared at the door for a moment, contemplating all that had transpired. Aziraphale turned from the door, still curled up on the chair Crowley had summoned for him. He found himself shaking, now with a newfound goal to get completely intoxicated. He stood from the chair and went to retrieve some liquor he'd acquired a long time ago, along with a glass.

The angel found himself gravitating back to the chair that was his only connection to Crowley at the moment, taking a seat and pouring a drink. He set the bottle beside the chair on the floor, then taking a long, healthy swig from the cup. Aziraphale looked at his hand that didn't hold his drink, still quivering in fear. The poor angel began to see bits and pieces of what had occurred only hours ago, taking another large gulp from his glass. Shocked, he'd soon found it empty and poured himself another cupful. Aziraphale continued on like this for a while as tears pooled in his eyes and soon leaked over, though he never let a sob spill from his lips.

The day quickly changed to night, the sky growing dark through the bookstore's windows. Aziraphale sat on the floor next to his telephone, deciding that he'd attempt to call his best friend, Crowley. Though, in his drunken haze, he failed to realize that it was rather late and Crowley enjoyed the action of sleeping. Phone call after phone call and the demon hadn't picked up; Aziraphale decided to start leaving voicemails after, possibly, the 8th time he'd dialed Crowley's number, "Heeeeeeey Crowley, it's me. I'm Az'raph'le, by the way. I'm calling 'cause… uh, 'cause, well, I'm bored. Nnnnnnnot entirely sure what to do… I'll jus' call you again. Alright, bye!" He called again and again, leaving progressively more pathetic messages.

Finally, after the angel's 5th bottle, Aziraphale called Crowley one more time as dawn began to break, "Oh Lord, I'm sorry. I mus' be botherin' you. This is so stupid; it's practic'lly mornin'. I do apologize, dear. I jus' wanted to talk, but it's stupid, so stupid. I'm so glad you're alrigh'. I, uh, I'll talk to you later, Crowley. Good morning." Aziraphale put the phone to the receiver, then taking a sip from his drink.

After a moment of blankly looking around his bookshop, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed out, "God, why'd this happ'n to me?" Suddenly, a blinding white light had shone down on him and he heard Her voice speak, "Why indeed, Aziraphale." The angel, suddenly becoming flustered in his drunken state, shot to stand on his feet and nearly fell over. "O-oh goodness!" Aziraphale spoke with shock, "My Lord, it's you! I-- well, I hadn't expected you to talk to me after the, uh… execution situation." Her voice rang out, "I had ordered no execution." The angel found himself frozen; she hadn't ordered Aziraphale's execution? What was that supposed to mean?

"B-but Gabriel, he had said that I was to be made an example out of, for being a tr-traitor," Aziraphale spoke frantically, reciting knowledge that Crowley had told him after their trials. God's voice now held a somewhat comforting tone as She spoke, "Oh Aziraphale, I hadn't asked for an example to be made of anyone." Aziraphale was stunned, he wasn't sure what else to say; Heaven's purest of pure had gone against The Almighty's wishes and went directly behind Her back just to destroy a lowly principality. Granted, that principality had aided in the halting of the end of the world, which he was sure Heaven wouldn't be too happy about. The angel spoke, exasperated, "But-- but they're--"

"No more 'but's, Aziraphale. My own angels have wronged me and the hour of punishment is upon us," She spoke with a firm voice. Then, from the light descended Aziraphale's sword, God going on, "Take your sword, as you will be a vital part of my righteous punishment." Aziraphale sputtered, taking the sword in his hands and asking, now sobering up, "My Lord, what would I be able to do? I-I couldn't ever harm anything in all of creation." A lighthearted chuckle erupted from the light above him and She spoke, "Aziraphale, Principality, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden," a small flame floated down from the beam of light and landed gracefully on the blade of Aziraphale's sword, slowly igniting the whole blade.

"I will give you the ability to wield the weapon you need to punish the unjust, the flame of Hellfire," as the flame touched his hand, it burnt white-hot before suddenly becoming a dull warmth. The angel's eyes grew wide; no angel in all of creation has ever actually handled Hellfire. Then, this got Aziraphale thinking about what The Almighty was asking him to do; She wanted him to permanently destroy those angels. Just as Aziraphale was going to open his mouth to protest, She continued, "And, as my final gift to you, I give you unrelenting strength and will. Do not hold back, Aziraphale; show them your hidden pain."

Aziraphale suddenly saw the Hellfire climbing up his arms and he found himself unable to release the sword no matter how much he tried. The Holy Light faded and vanished, leaving the angel to scream for help alone as the Hellfire engulfed him. Aziraphale noticed several of his celestial eyes were opening all over his body and he felt the Hellfire pour into them, including the pair on his face. He screamed as an immense pain built up inside of him, but it was not physical; it was an emotional build-up that scorched his insides, that crackled and screeched, 'revenge'. His wings soon opened and they were alight with Hellfire, though they did not burn. The eyes that covered Aziraphale now had Hellfire flaming from them. The angel silenced his screams, something inside his chest changing, or more rather, becoming far more intense than Aziraphale would ever allow.

He looked to the ceiling, his eyes literally aflame, and held his sword with a grip that could crush a human neck in an instant. Aziraphale uttered a strangled, "May God… have mercy… on your souls…" before flapping his wings violently, causing the books around him to fly off their shelves and scatter around him. Then, the angel was gone in a heated wisp of air.

Crowley awoke sometime in the afternoon, as he hadn't much to do. He thought of visiting Aziraphale, to make sure the angel was holding up alright. As he thought about that, he also thought that he should call Aziraphale before just barging in. Then, the demon saw that he had many, many unread voicemails left by no one other than the angel himself, all from last night and early this morning. As Crowley listened through them, he felt bad that he hadn't been up to talk to the angel, though he'd gone and gotten drunk all by himself to drown his sorrow which is never a good idea. The demon found it somewhat humorous to listen to the angel, sloshed out of his mind, calling Crowley over and over again.

Then, on the last voicemail, Crowley could hear Aziraphale attempt to put the phone onto the receiver but must've not quite gotten it on there right because the audio kept going. Crowley heard static and what sounded like Aziraphale talking to someone. Then came the angel's blood-curdling screams that were soon silenced, followed by flapping, the swirling of wind, and things falling to the ground. To finish it, the voicemail suddenly fell into an eerie silence before a static played and then the voicemail ended. The demon could feel the hairs on his arms begin to stand; something was wrong, obviously, but he wasn't sure what. Before he knew it, Crowley was rushing out the door, snapping on his usual outfit as he went. He sped toward the Bentley, hastily opening the door, starting the car, slamming the door shut, and then driving off toward the angel's bookshop.

As plenty of things do, the bookstore looked fine on the outside. Crowley did his best to not hit any pedestrians as he parked his car halfway on the sidewalk next to the ancient shop. He threw the car door open and rushed inside, knowing full well that the Bently better do everything in its power to not be stolen. The demon burst through the double doors, taking in the sight of the bookshop in shambles; books, among other papers, were strewn across the floors haphazardly as if they hadn't cared how their owner would react if he saw them like this. Crowley shouted into the hollow-sounding space, "Aziraphale?" The only reply he received was a faint echo of his own voice.

Crowley began to pace, shoving books to the side as he did so until he had a loop to walk in, though no one would call it a circle. He then began to think: what happened to Aziraphale? It was obvious enough that Heaven was involved, though there's no ruling out Hell either. Those angels that had beaten Aziraphale and that bastard, Gabriel, what if they had come and stole him away? What if they planned on another execution attempt? If that were so, then Aziraphale would be at the mercy of the Hell flame because he would not be a demon in disguise this go around. But then, if this truly is so, then that means that Hell would surely know if there was an execution as they would need to send over a demon with the Hellfire.

He decided then that he would go to Hell, quite literally, to check. After all, they should still fear the demon after his and the angel's stunt. Crowley went to leave the bookshop but, just as he reached the door, he turned on his heel and shouted into the bookshop, "When Aziraphale gets back, this place had better be spotless!" Suddenly, the books and their shelves began to quake with a newfound fear for a demon that knew how to put the fear of himself into inanimate objects well enough. Crowley chuckled maniacally, adjusted his sunglasses, and walked out the door.

Not too long after, due to Crowley's chaotic speeding, the demon arrived at Heaven and Hell's gates. Well, the more proper term would be escalators. He strolled in, soon sinking into the reflective floor and riding an escalator downward. Once he'd arrived, demons cowered away from him, no one daring to be within 5 feet of the traitor who didn't succumb to Holy water. Soon enough, Crowley found Beelzebub intimidating a group of condemned souls. He grabbed them by the arm and forcefully dragged them into one of Hell's many closets. "What is the meaning of this?! Unhand me this instant, you insubordinate scum! Who are--?!" Beelzebub shouted in fury before being interrupted by Crowley turning on the light inside the closet.

The Prince of Hell stared in silence for a moment before they said in a whisper, "What do you think you're doing here?! You should know you're not welcome here anymore! Not after you embarrassed Hell's highest ranks." "Who sent it?" Crowley asked in a hurry. Beelzebub stared at him for a moment before they asked, "What in Satan's realm are you talking about, idiot?" Crowley grumbled and said, hands flailing in meaningless gestures, "Who. Sent. The. Fire. To. Heaven?" Beelzebub quickly reached for the door and opened it, quickly escaping the confined space and walking down a hall at a fast pace.

They said, "I have no idea what you're talking about, traitor. Even if I did, what makes you think I would tell you?" "I did," came a gruff, familiar voice. The pair ground to a halt, turning to see who had spoken. Hastur stood with his hands in his pockets, a grim expression on his face. The white-haired demon spoke again, "I gave 'em the Hellfire." Beelzebub gritted their teeth and mumbled angrily, "Idiot, why would you tell him?! He doesn't need to know these things! And why didn't you come to your superior with this information?!" Crowley stared between the two, putting the pieces together ever so slowly. Hastur said as he shrugged, "Don't know. One of the bastards from Upstairs just waltzed in here and asked for some."

"And you just gave it away?!" Came Beelzebub's enraged reply. Crowley got an eerie sense of déjà vu but he couldn't place why. Hastur continued, "I guess I did; it all kind of feels like a vague memory. Though it only happened a few hours ago." Crowley, finally gathering what he'd needed, quickly walked up to Hastur and grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him into the air. The serpent's eyes shone brightly as his pupils became thin as daggers and he asked, "Who did you give the Hellfire to?" Hastur squirmed with fear and gasped, then saying, "I-I don't know! I didn't recognize them! Th-they said they were new or something!" Crowley released Hastur, scoffing and saying, "Damn it!"

Beelzebub chuckled and asked with spite, "What's wrong, Serpent of Eden? I thought your little angel was immune to Hellfire? Unless… that's not the case anymore?" Crowley shoved passed them, and then made his way back to the escalators. Hastur shouted after him, "What do you plan to do to stop them? What could you do?" Crowley grumbled, not saying it loud enough for anyone to really hear him, "I'm going to Heaven, you moron." The demon quickly left Hell, returning to the room with the escalators. He stared up at them for a moment before stepping on and going up.

As Heaven continued on about its usual business, a bit more hectic after the failure of the apocalypse, there suddenly came a disturbance. A strong surge of heat spread through Heaven, all angels quickly taking notice of the unusual feeling. Archangels Michael, Uriel, and Gabriel were sent to investigate the source, finding a sphere of bright light. Michael attempted to touch it, taking her hand back as it seared her skin. "Hellfire!" She exclaimed, "What's it doing here?!" The sphere then began to change, wings spreading and taking a humanoid shape, now revealed to be Aziraphale. Gabriel gasped and shouted, "Aziraphale?! You-- you shouldn't be here! You're a traitor! What is the meaning of this?!"

Aziraphale's feet touched the ground, his sword swinging downward as he adjusted his wrist. Then the angel lifted his sword to point it, accusingly, at the group of archangels along with the angels that stood behind them with swords of their own, though they did not flame. Aziraphale's voice boomed across all of Heaven, surely reaching even its farthest corners, "Angels and archangels of Heaven, in the name of God, I have been given the task of eliminating all I see fit." Aziraphale’s expression turned twisted, his mouth spread into a wicked grin and the flame emitting from his eyes growing slightly larger. The fire ridden angel spoke in a dark voice, rough throated, “And those I see fit… are those who have wronged me.” He pointed his sword toward Gabriel and said in a much too cheery voice, “Gabriel! I would quite like to start with you first.”

“G-get him!” Gabriel shouted in fear, pointing a shaking finger. A few soldier angels walked forward from behind the archangels, holding their swords in front of them as a defense. As the group stood in a semi-circle around Aziraphale, the angel began to cackle which soon turned to full-on maniacal laughter. "Do you think you can stop me?" His voice echoed once again, sending shivers of fear and horror down the spines of all that listened, "Do you think you can stop God? It is Her will that this is done. And any who step in my way," Aziraphale quickly swung his sword, catching the soldiers off guard. The angels were all hit, screaming as they evaporated and leaving only their clothes behind. Aziraphale continued darkly, "Are fit for righteous retribution."

"Guards! Get rid of him!" Uriel shouted as the archangels retreated, needing to think of a better plan they told themselves. The rest of the soldier angels that had stood behind them now charged full force toward the Hellfire ridden angel. Aziraphale turned his neck to the side, cracking it a few times before smiling an off-puttingly joyful smile and musing, "This is going to be positively delightful!" The angel then began swinging with skill and ease, skill he hadn't known since the First War; the more Aziraphale dwelled on the fact that he shouldn't be able to be doing this, shouldn't even be here, the more his rage grew as he remembered why he was here. Revenge burned his tongue far worse than any Hellfire could, at least that's what he thought within the moment.

His fire grew with his rage as angel after angel fell and disappeared with the swing of his sword, which burned with the Hellfire he currently possessed. Soon enough, soldier angels began retreating as they realized that this thing was undefeatable. Once Aziraphale took care of the remaining angels with fight still left in them, he snatched an angel that attempted to run away. He held his blade to the shaking angel's throat and said, "If you wish to exist in God's presence for a moment longer, you'll want to tell me where I could find the archangel Gabriel." The angel nodded and quickly gave away the archangels location, saying that it would be the safest place the archangels could retreat to.

Aziraphale patted the angel on the cheek and said, "That's a good sport. Don't have to get so wound up now, do we? Compliance is an asset, after all. Run along now," he released the angel and spoke with a dark voice as he held his blade closer to his face, "Before I change my mind." The angel turned and ran for their life, stumbling and tripping as they left Aziraphale's sight. Aziraphale found himself smirking with a satisfied grin, feeling more powerful than he'd ever felt before. He also thought that he'd might give Gabriel a little heads up before he came to get him; it would make the arrival so much more fun. The angel boomed, voice screeching like a banshee seeking justice, "Gabriel!"

"Gabriel!" Suddenly came Aziraphale's voice, so loud that it shook the escalators around Crowley including the one he was currently riding upward. The demon's concern for his angel grew great, him now taking two stair steps as he made his way to the top. He prayed to whoever would listen that he wasn't too late to save Aziraphale. Once Crowley had finally reached the top of the escalators, he'd ran passed a receptionist that he only remembered seeing once before when he and Aziraphale had switched bodies. Though for some reason Crowley couldn't place, the angel looked visibly shaken, horrified even. Crowley found himself wondering as he ran passed them if they weren't much of a fan of executions.

Once he'd made his way into the main room, Crowley found himself frozen, his eyes grazing over all the abandoned clothes that littered the floor with steam floating from them. "What in-- someone's name is…?" Crowley questioned out loud as he realized that these were angels and they were being destroyed by means of Hellfire. The demon found himself blaming the twisted archangels that practically ran Heaven and hoped that Aziraphale was somewhere else as he hadn't spotted his angel's clothing among the deceased. "Why would they do this?" Crowley thought angrily, assuming that Heaven was a cold place full of beings that could be just as if not more cruel than some of the demons down in Hell. Crowley pressed on, worry and doubt beginning to cloud his mind as he assumed the worst for Aziraphale.

The angel giddily continued on, only a few angels daring to attempt to stop him from reaching his destination, the angels all meeting untimely ends. Aziraphale spoke in a happy, sing-song voice, "Gabriel! I know I'm getting closer! I'm coming for you, Gabriel!" And just as the angel predicted, he soon reached his desired location. Aziraphale sat outside the door, taking a deep breath in before kicking the door down with the force of God, literally. The archangels sat behind a table that was knocked over on its side for protection, a few more soldier angels standing in front of the table. "You higher-ups," Aziraphale tisked as if he were scolding a child, "Always have someone else do your dirty work for you."

Aziraphale easily cut down the angels that rushed him, charging in and taking out the remaining soldiers. As he approached the table, he continued darkly, "Only ever truly do something when you want to take the satisfaction for yourselves." Uriel jumped out from behind the table with a sword in hand, jumping over and behind Aziraphale and swinging fast. She struck the alight angel, him crying out with his booming voice, "Agh!"

"Agh!" Came Aziraphale's loud voice again, though now filled with pain. Crowley could tell he was close, wherever his angel was, he was close. The demon sprinted now, calling out, "Aziraphale! Aziraphale, where are you?!" No reply came as he searched harder for the angel, following a path of clothes.

"You bitch!" Aziraphale turned around and lunged at Uriel, knowing full well that he's wanted to call Uriel that for a long time. The archangel dodged swiftly, attempted to land another blow and missing. "You think I'd just let you hit me again? I won't make this easy!" Aziraphale spoke with venom on his tongue, grimacing as he swung his sword at Uriel, "You only managed to cut me because I underestimated you; I figured you were all cowards!" Aziraphale then swung his sword hard, knocking Uriel's sword out of her hand and far away from her. He grinned at her and continued with a sadistic tone, "Though clearly I'm not wrong,"

"Otherwise, your allies would be over here right now, attempting to help you. All you do now is squirm and writhe like a coward, trying to prevent the inevitable." Uriel spoke as she shook in fear for her life, "This isn't you, Aziraphale. You're a Principality!" Aziraphale grimaced, pointed the tip of his flaming sword at her and said with a dark tone of voice, "You wouldn't know who I am. None of you would." Uriel pushed nervously, "Y-you could come back! We could forget Armageddon happened and you could return to your heavenly duties. You are on our side, remember? You are an angel!" Aziraphale began chuckling, then saying, "You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?"

The angel paused for a moment, his chuckles dying away before he spoke with a threatening voice, "I am doing my heavenly duty! I was given this task by God! Don't you understand that? She wants you gone! And She's given me the task of getting rid of the sinners." Aziraphale swung his sword quickly, but Uriel just barely avoided his blade, being burnt just a bit by the Hellfire. She held the wound as her eyes grew wide, the weight of what Aziraphale was saying finally landing on her shoulders. "She wants you to kill us," Uriel muttered under her breath, though all in the room could clearly hear what she said.

"Right you are, my dear!" Aziraphale shouted gleefully, then saying, "She hadn't ordered for my execution nor was She made aware that there would be an execution. You all had tried to kill me, to make an 'example' out of me without even consulting the Almighty!" Aziraphale swung again, this time slicing Uriel's arm open and singeing her flesh. "Ahh!" She screamed in pain, now holding that wound in place of the previous burn. It wasn't enough to kill Uriel, but Aziraphale would see to it that she would be gone soon.

Crowley continued to run through the endless halls of Heaven that seemed even more empty than he'd remembered them being when he'd been there long ago. As he rounded a corner, he saw a room with no door, appearing to have been torn off the hinges. Crowley then heard the sizzle of burning flesh and a cry of pain, him soon rushing in to see what was happening. The demon saw a being almost entirely made of Hellfire standing over a wounded angel, seeming ready to finish the angel off with their flaming sword. As Crowley took in the features of the being, he soon realized that under the flame was his angel, fury and rage behind his flaming eyes. "Aziraphale…?" Crowley asked hesitantly.

Aziraphale quickly looked up and his expression softened as it grew shocked, him asking with a mix of those emotions, "Crowley? What-- what are you doing here?!" Using this moment to her advantage, Uriel kicked Aziraphale in the stomach and ran to grab her sword, now standing behind the table once again with the sword aimed at Aziraphale as she shook violently. Aziraphale held his stomach, angry at himself for being distracted, before saying to Crowley, "You're not supposed to be here!" Crowley found himself shocked most of all and he had so many questions he'd like to ask, just not in front of a bunch of Heaven's highest-ranked angels which Aziraphale had backed into a corner begging for their lives.

Instead, Crowley chose to say, "Neither are you, angel." The angel was so taken aback he wasn't sure what to say which began to shorten his temper as he wished to return to his righteous retribution. "You need to leave, Crowley," Aziraphale spoke with a bit of grit in his words, trying to repress the boiling in his chest. "So do you," Crowley shot back, still not exactly sure what was happening, "What exactly would you plan to do if I were to just leave you here with them?" "Finish what I started," boomed Aziraphale's angered voice, echoing as it had been earlier. What Aziraphale was saying finally sank into Crowley and he understood what this was all about: revenge.

"You…" Crowley began with a bit a sorrow in his voice, "You… killed all those angels out there? All on your own?" Aziraphale was silent for just a moment before saying with a flat voice, "I was commanded by God--" "Since when have we given a shit about what God has to say?!" Came Crowley's exasperated reply, "Angel, this isn't you. She's in your head, you've just gotta snap out of it." Crowley looked into Aziraphale's eyes, though only being met with a flaming gaze in return. Aziraphale spoke softly, voice quivering just slightly, "Stop." Crowley stepped closer, going on, "I know you're hurting, angel… but doing this isn't going to change what happened."

The angel's voice began to crack and break as he said, tears somehow escaping from his eyes and running down his face, "Shut up." Crowley stepped even closer, only a few feet away from Aziraphale as he continued, "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I should've been there when you needed me. I knew you were in pain and I left you alone because I was scared. But this…" Crowley waved at Uriel, whose wound didn't look any better, and said, "This isn't going to make the pain go away. This isn't going to make it feel any better. You're just bringing yourself down to their level." Crowley felt himself shaking now, but with a different kind of fear. "I'm so sorry, angel," the demon's voice quivered, tears now running down his face as well.

"No," Aziraphale's voice came simple while simultaneously sounding as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, the angel closing the gap between him and his demon with an embrace, "No, Crowley, no. Don't apologize, please. It isn't your fault. I've let my anger get the best of me. I'm so dreadful sorry, my dear." The fire around Aziraphale dissipated, the last of it leaving his eyes, bright blue irises now visible once again. The angel closed his wings and extra eyes, them disappearing as he said, "My goodness, I do seem to have made quite the mistake." Crowley took the sword from Aziraphale's hand, which still flamed, and said, "Indeed you have, angel. But I'm sure it won't matter once we're out of here."

Uriel approached the pair cautiously, knowing they still possessed Hellfire, and said with her sword raised, "By order of the archangels, you are to leave Heaven and never, ever return." Crowley chuckled at the archangel's fear and then noticed the knocked over table, then asking, "Hey, is Gabriel back there?" Uriel gave the demon a look and he pointed the sword at her with little effort, though still successfully scaring her into nodding. "Alright," Crowley shrugged and said, "Why don't you go over there and tell him to come here for a second?" Aziraphale looked at Crowley and asked in a whisper, "Crowley, what are you doing? Shouldn't we be taking our leave?" Crowley said, still watching Uriel as she retreated behind the table, "I've got a few things I'd like to say before we go."

Uriel came back with Gabriel in front of her, leaving distance between the traitors and herself and Gabriel. "Come here," Crowley waved Gabriel over with the sword. Gabriel looked over his shoulder at Uriel who shrugged and shoed him on. Gabriel stepped closer and spoke with a high and mighty voice, "Demon, traitor to your own. For what do I have the displeasure of speaking with you?" Crowley turned and handed Aziraphale the sword before turning back and throwing a hard punch directly at Gabriel's face, landing clean on his nose. As Gabriel doubled over, Crowley kicked him in the stomach, landing the archangel on the floor in a fetal position.

"Fucking arsehole," Crowley muttered, "The only lot I'm owned by is Aziraphale, as he is with me. You got that? Get it in your heads because he isn't coming back here to tell you again." The demon turned on his heel and grabbed Aziraphale by the arm, saying, "Let's go, angel. I think they've had enough." The pair then left without another word, though they both had many questions for each other, they were just glad they came out of the whole ordeal alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about making a second part with more comfort for Aziraphale and a bit of explaining on each of their ends. What do you think? Is it needed?


End file.
